About Adam
by Izeult
Summary: Remember Adam who travelled with Nine and Rose before being thrown out of the Tardis for bad behaviour? I've always thought and wondered what happened to him after he was left at home with that implant opening at the click of anyone's fingers.....
1. Chapter 1

In all the fandom wank going on around the place at the announcement of the 11th doctor, one of my friends mentioned that she'd like to see a male companion for the doctor...I made a joke about Adam (Christopher Ecclestone's season as the Doctor) around it being strange that Torchwood hadn't caught up with him yet.... so this little fic was spawned.

This fic takes place from when we see Adam being deposited back to his parent's house and what happens next, that much is canon but the rest I think is best described as AU! I'm being flexible with some of the facts here too – like the events of Dalek taking place in I think it's 2012. Creative license and all that.

It's my first one so please, be kind!

I wish I owned all these characters, sadly I do not .

Woe.

".....just like that...."

Adam could still see the look of horror mingled with shock and incomprehension and a dash of disbelief on her face as his implant opened with the squelching sound before she lost her lunch. The entire history of the human race thrummed around in his head but he just couldn't get past his mother's reaction; that look on her face at his forehead splitting and his forebrain being exposed to her.

Six months on it played on his expanded mind, he couldn't get passed it.

The aftermath of the TARDIS dematerialising and what followed after his mother's discovery was generally a blur, other than that expression which Adam was certain would haunt him for quite some time to come. Fortunately Van Staten had paid him well so money wasn't an immediate concern, no, the immediate concern was finding somewhere to lie low as the Doctor had so mockingly suggested and figuring how the hell he was going to change the default setting on his implant so it wouldn't keep opening at the snap of someone's fingers. After that he'd make some long term plans to move on, maybe find the doctor and get the implant removed and maybe, if he was very lucky catch up with Rose again.

The outskirts of London sufficed for a couple of weeks, his collection of hats had grown considerably (Adam thanked the fashion gods for the current trend of beanies and hats) but he still hadn't figured out a way to change the default setting on his implant. Racking his brain (implant unopened he thought drily) Adam contemplated his options – hiding in London, living like a hermit in case he came into contact with someone who clicked their fingers (he'd discovered the hard way the discomfort of the implant opening while he'd a hat on!), no contact with his family or his friends back in Manchester – not that he'd many of those given he'd always been the class swot or going somewhere further afield. The question was to where and to do what.

Working with Van Staten, Adam had come across all those interested in Alien tech – UNIT, FBI's "Alien Action" group, CIA's X Files (definitely not just a TV program), the Australian Armed forces special "special" branch and Torchwood; trying to ignore the feeling that now if they knew about him, he certainly would be less free then current circumstances found him he ruled out them all. He could just imagine the glee any of these organisations would have if he presented himself to them. Nope, lying low for the moment would have to do.

Then the Slitheen invaded Downing street and Canary wharf happened in quick succession – The Torchwood One tower stood a smouldering wreck and UNIT leadership had pretty much been obliterated. Adam had known that something was wrong immediately when the ghost shifts had started, Canary Wharf had still caught him by surprise though, figuring that there would be an excellent chance of the Doctor being around, he watched the tower burn, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of the leather jacketed man who'd abandoned him and his ears strained for the scratching of the TARDIS. All he'd seen was a man in a long coat that looked like he'd lost everything walking away slowly with his head hung and a small group of three (one tall dark haired man in a long coat, a small dark haired slight woman doing a lot of pointing and a small wiry second man) surveying the wreckage and hauling a lot of heavy equipment into two large black SUVs with Torchwood emblazoned on the sides.

Wait.

What?

Torchwood had fallen?

Hadn't it?

The tower was a twisted mess, the stench of burning flesh hung in the air, and the dust was beginning to settle on all buildings around Canary wharf. So what were these SUVs doing?? Who were these people? Cursing the fact he'd no terminal to interface with, Adam spent a sleepless night pacing his tiny bedsit. Torchwood, Torchwood, Torchwood. What could he dredge up from his supped up brain about Torchwood. Resignedly realising he'd have to open the implant to fully explore his bank of knowledge; Adam clicked his fingers and averted his eyes from the dull shiny surface of his television. He'd never quite got used to his forehead peeling back. Torchwood, Torchwood..... Now this was more like it, images, sounds, facts, figures and faces whirred through his mind's eye. He grasped at a tentative facts - "The Cobalt Tower was built on the ruins of the old earth institute of Torchwood by the 2002nd century", "Captain Jack Harkness", "Canary Wharf", "Queen Victoria", "if it's alien it's ours", "Glasgow", "Cardiff". At the last two, Adam stopped. There was more than one Torchwood branch? That explained the appearance of the SUVs. But which branch were they from? Glasgow or Cardiff. Some more research would be needed. Groaning Adam threw himself down on the bed fatigue finally gaining the upper hand but felt more positive than he had in quite some time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

As you've hopefully noticed – this is indeed a Torchwood fic and not a Doctor Who one although it could look like one on first glance. Appearances being deceiving and all that.

So Adam has finally been thinking of Torchwood and using that thing in his head.......hmmmmmmmmm what happens next???

Clearly his mind had been resolving some issues and putting two and two together and making up some impossibly difficult quadratic equations just for fun while he'd slept – Adam woke up knowing for certain that it was the Cardiff branch that'd been at Canary wharf. It just made perfect sense, he knew that there was a rift flowing through Cardiff with as much certainty that he knew that the river Clyde flowed through Glasgow. A million other little things clicked into place for him.

Right.

So that was the easy part – now how to get into Torchwood Cardiff to see if they had anything to help him with.

Right.

The difficult part.

Shit.

Ok plan needed.

Rubbing his rumbling stomach, he wandered to his small fridge to search for something from its meagre contents. Um no. Vile, random orange, thick milk and a jar of mayonnaise. Having a sudden craving for a vegetarian pizza (having your brain exposed will do that to a man) he grabbed what had become his favourite hat (a fetching black beanie with a blue line around its tip) and wandered down the street to the local take away. Nodding at the Wilf, the old man selling papers on the way, he ordered the vegetarian deluxe, extra cheese, a side of chips and two cans of coke for take away before meandering back to his bed sit trying to form a plan. A group of teenagers stood at the corner pointing at him making him walk quickly.

Grabbing a pen and paper from his bed side locker, he began to draw random words, Cardiff was written in large letters in the centre of one page with arrows and bubbles connecting and interconnecting while he tried to gather his train of thought, the second page he started a list of what he was going to have to do next. Staying in London was now no longer an option; he was getting desperate no scratch that, he was getting excited.

A resolution to his problem.

Yes it was tangible; he just had to make it happen.

The list started off easily – train ticket, money, a laptop, mobile phone (he'd not even turned on his old one since he fled his parent's house in mortification) and accommodation in Cardiff. While money hadn't been a problem initially, Adam suspected that it would start to be soon. Hmmmm maybe he could use some of the knowledge he had, place a few outside bets, nothing too obvious, just enough to make him a bit of cash. First step first, he'd have to check his bank accounts, get a phone and get a laptop. Grabbing his hat and keys again to leave Adam realised it was now 2:30am in the morning, not a lot would be open. Falling into bed he slept deeply now he's a plan.

11:30, feeling more refreshed and hopeful than he'd done in quite some time, Adam showered quickly, dressed and polished off the cold pizza before starting out on his errands pulling on another hat from his collection before pulling out the door behind him. First thing being first, he checked his bank account balance at the first ATM he passed, £672.33 left. Frowning, he made his way towards one of the central train stations to buy a ticket for Cardiff for the following day– one way. Thankfully the train was direct. As he passed an electronic store, Adam decided that access to a laptop was going to be more pressing than a phone when he had no one to talk to. £500 the poorer off he made his way back to the bedsit picking up a paper on the way. Flicking though the pages he powered up the laptop at the same time, searching for some an unsecured wireless network to piggyback from. Finding one he began to look at the odds being given for some upcoming events. Finding a couple that would yield results he was looking for, he created a number of accounts at a spread of gambling sites and split the remaining money over the bets and crossed his fingers.

The lists from the previous evening caught his eye, checking off money, ticket, laptop and skipping mobile phone, he came to the next topic – accommodation. Not knowing anything about Cardiff, Adam scowled at the list. There was always something. Why couldn't things just be easy? Deciding he'd treat himself to a night in a hotel when he got to Cardiff, Adam turned his attention to the brain dump on the second sheet of paper. Sighing again, he looked at the bubbles, words and arrows as if expecting them to magically give him an answer. Off the top of his head, he didn't even know where in Cardiff Torchwood were based and he assumed that a secret organisation wouldn't be well known with a centrally located office with signs pointing at it for any randomer with or without an implant. Not knowing really who even worked there – he'd only seen the three people from a distance Adam threw himself back on his bed realising that this was going to be a little more difficult than he'd thought. How on earth was he going to find Torchwood, make contact with them and reassure them that he wasn't a threat? What was he actually going to ask them? His blood ran cold and his stomach felt like lead. Feeling the familiar retch of nausea, he tried not to flinch; instead he opened his hands in front of his mouth where the frozen cube of vomit just slipped out. Frowning in distaste he tossed it into the sink realising that getting into Torchwood would need some serious outside the box thinking.


	3. Chapter 3

I know my timelines are pretty out of kilter, I'd claim license and say it's time travel but simple fact having things this way fits my story! My bad. Plus Adam has more knowledge in his head then just about the computer chip. Ah yes, artistic license.

So Adam realises that it's not going to be as easy as he thinks getting in contact with Torchwood.

Or is it?

Chapter 3

The train was pleasantly quiet. Adam was glad to have most of the carriage to himself; he'd decided that once he got to Cardiff he'd find a nice hotel and book in there for two nights or, that would give him time to relax as well as get a feel for the city. His bets had paid off, but he realised he'd have to do more of the same that weekend to keep the coffers full and have a deposit for accommodation.

It wasn't raining when he got to Cardiff, he had expected it to – but finding St David's hotel and spa close to the train station, he decided that would do nicely and he'd not have to worry in case it did decide to rain. Walking through hotel reception his stomach rumbled as he passed a group of 5 people arguing not so quietly. He only got snippets of the conversation while he reached the counter for check in. "Two nights" was his response to the receptionist. Three annoyed and harassed voices though could still be heard

"Can't just walk in......."

"....wanker and "

"Just tell me it's not like ........."

A fourth voice – a very weary voice "Can't, not yet........The Doctor"

"Sorry sir?" The receptionist was looking for his attention while he strained to continue listening to the conversation. Signing his name and handing over his credit card, he continued. Looking in the mirror hanging over the reception he could see that the group of 5 had split into 3 mini groups, a very attractive petite Japanese woman, a pushy dark haired women and a small wiry man in one, a tall man in a long coat who looked familiar and the last man not saying anything looking like he wished he could be anywhere else but there. The nagging feeling of recognising the group tugged at Adam's consciousness as the receptionist gave a polite cough to get his attention again, this didn't work and she coughed more loudly a second time. The arguing group stopped short and looked at his direction, catching the eye of more than one of them in the mirror above the desk, Adam blushed, fiddled with his hat and turned his attention to the receptionist who handed him back his card and gave him his room key. Pointing to the lifts he passed the group again who'd started arguing at a more quiet level. The mutterings of "The Doctor", "The Valiant", "The Master" "Coffee" and "Wanker" made his hair stand on end as he passed, dismissing this as paranoia he made his way to the lift feeling one pair of eyes bore solidly into his back.

His room was on the third floor with a glorious view of the bay. The bed was large and comfortable with a mountain of pillows, bathroom just massive with a Jacuzzi bath, full shower replete with a television. First thing first, Adam ran a bath before grabbed the room service menu and ordered a couple of dishes, a bottle of white wine and cake for desert. Hopping into the bath, by the time he hopped out, room service had been delivered and his bottle of wine stood opened in a bucket of ice. Smiling with pleasure, he devoured the lot before falling into the middle of the bed where the strangest dreams ran through his head.

First off, he was back on the TARDIS with the Doctor and Rose and the hotel receptionist who refused to tell her where she had come from but kept talking about the master doctor wanting coffee. The scene melted before his eyes revealing the "metaltron" (Dalek his subconscious corrected) wearing a long coat calling him a wanker. Rose again, this time in the Jacuzzi bath smiling her enigmatic smile before asking him to turn on Big brother 4397 on the TV for her...... someone threatening to wipe someone's memory if they didn't get a new hat immediately.....The attractive Japanese woman from earlier on tucking her hair behind her ear while smiling shyly before a large black SUV with lots and lots of pillows in the back and someone rubbing his feet. Now that was more like it. Adam Mitchell smiled to himself as he rolled over onto his side and slept soundly.


	4. Chapter 4

Mickey's website is real by the by

Chapter 4

The next day dawned – or more accurately drizzled. Feeling ready to face the world, Adam wondered down around the main Plass to the closest tourist office. He'd been told that it kept funny hours but that if he was lucky he'd find it open. Passing a corner shop on his way, he decided it could be a good time to pick up some local papers to find accommodation as he was likely to be here quite some time.

Finding the tourist office proved harder than he'd expected but eventually Adam found it – only to discover it was closed. Cursing under his breath he scowled and walked back to the plass. Thankfully, the rain had stopped and there weren't droves of tourists either. Adam sat back and looked at the local papers.

Ianto Jones was looking at the CCTV for the tourist office that was Torchwood 3's cover story. One of the more mundane things he'd to do was check out using the facial recognition software anyone who came very close to the tourist office that he manned a couple of hours a week. It seemed pointless to him, but it was required by protocol and Ianto was nothing if not a stickler for procedure and protocol. The facial recognition software whirred in the back ground doing whatever it did; Ianto sipped his coffee while looking at some of the stills that had been taken. Frowning, he examined two, taken earlier that morning. It was the guy from the hotel the day before. A coincidence? Ianto frowned and pulled up some of the system logs, the hotel's CCTV of the day before and opened the live CCTV feed to see if he could find the person he was looking for. Thankful for Torchwood's backdoor access to the city's cameras, he manipulated those around the tourist office and cross checked them with the times on the logs and the rest of the CCTV cameras stationed around the plass. Yes, there he was. Zooming in on the lone figure, Ianto began to stream the live images so he could capture them with a handy program Tosh had put together Ianto noticed that like yesterday the person he was watching was wearing a hat, and was rubbing the his forehead through the hat in a distracted fashion – a bit like a personal tick. Ianto began smoothing down his own tie, half way through the motion he grinned to himself, noticing that was his own tell. Getting back to the task in hand though he went back to the CCTV footage taking note of as much of this character as possible, taking a couple of stills to get as much of his face as possible (difficult with the hat) but not impossible. He noticed the local news papers in a plastic bag and the puddle of water around his left shoe and above all – the glances he kept giving the tourist office.

Adam sat on the damp bench with the plastic bag beneath him, glancing though the local papers, ringing some accommodation that looked promising. All things considered, he reflected, he should probably get somewhere small by himself until he was....fixed. Or found the doctor. Or was fixed by the Doctor, and Rose. Or Torchwood. Or all of the above. Finding a handful of ads to his liking Adam turned to look at the tourist office, no movement. "Ridiculous" he thought to himself, "why have a tourist office in the middle of the city and not open it?" Turning his attention to the pages of sports ads, Adam went to work.....

Ianto wondered idly (not for the first time) if the amount of coffee he was drinking was making him paranoid. He'd managed to put a name to ....well whatever this guy was pretty easily, Mr Coincidence – was there such a thing?? Mr Hat – no this wasn't South Park, prey sounded well too predatory, hunch? Victim? Project? Whatever the noun or adjective to be applied, the subject's name was Adam Mitchell. But he looked clean. Nothing at all seemed out of the ordinary. Until Ianto went to dig deeper. Mickey Smith's site (.uk) wasn't something Ianto gave much credence to, but Jack was insistent that they (aka Ianto) keep an eye on it and right now Ianto was in agreement with him. An Adam Mitchell was listed as a winner of an essay competition on why they wanted to meet an alien. Coincidence ?? Ianto was getting more and more sceptical and now curious. Cross checking the name through UNIT, didn't yield anything. Neither did the CIA....only when Ianto checked the FBI databases did he come across anything – an Adam Mitchell had worked as an intern with Henry Van Staten just before the man had turned up in some American backwater with absolutely no memory of who he was but stuffed to the hilt of something akin to retcon. Now Jack hadn't been too impressed by that. As if he knew Ianto had been thinking of him, Jack appeared at Ianto's desk causing him to jump as he laid his hand on his shoulder.

"What are you looking at?"

Ianto sighed, wondering if he was going to come across as slightly crazy. Explaining to Jack about looking through the CCTV of the tourist shop and finding that today the guy they'd passed in the hotel the day before, he took a deep breath before continuing "I've stopped believing in coincidences so I did some more digging, someone of his name has won an essay competition on your friend Mickey Smith's website and someone of his name worked for Van Staten before....well you know..."

Jack did know, he remembered being on the phone to some arrogant American about the retcon like substance. One thing Ianto hadn't mentioned though was the name. Jack cocked his eyebrow, "Ianto, all this talk of names......what's this guy's name?"

"Adam Mitchell".

Jack started, "seriously?" before starting to laugh

Ianto blinked twice looking puzzled "yes, why? Who is he? Should we be worried?"

Jack raked his fingers through his hair before straightening up not saying a word. Ianto stared at him expectantly. "Jack?" Jack lent back in over Ianto's desk, scrolling through the stills not saying a word. Ianto stiffened but said nothing. Jack was surprised. Actually, more than surprised, he'd heard about Adam Mitchell from Rose, the Doctor didn't really say much about him, only snorted with derision and rolled his eyes when Rose had told him the story of how he had been deposited back with a click of the Doctor's fingers with a warning of living a low key life here on in if he didn't want to come to a very pointed and dissected end. He's also expected Ianto to be a bit more probing – truth being told, he kind of liked Ianto being a little jealous so he kept silent for a couple of moments longer before haltingly trying to explain what he knew – keeping mentions of the Doctor to a minimum.

Ianto looked incredulously at Jack at the clicking the fingers part. He turned back to his desk and pulled up one of the stills of Adam rubbing his forehead while looking at the paper smoothed across his lap. "I guess that explains the hat. Is he a danger?"

Jack shrugged, "you mean if it's alien it's ours?"

Ianto coloured a little, remembering Torchwood 1, some habits were hard to break, but shrugged a response, "yeah I guess so...."

Jack stared at the CCTV of Adam standing up and rolling up one of the papers in his pocket, "I think this one is actually a coincidence, or well it could be, keep an eye though on our Mr Mitchell over the next couple of days, if we need to take action....we will. Now if you could get me a coffee that would be amaaaaaaaazging"

Ianto rolled his eyes and moved to the kitchen.

Adam stretched, despite his better judgement, he quite liked it here, the hustle and bustle was pleasant from the fairly solitary existence he'd been living the last couple of months, he'd quite liked Roald Dahl's books growing up, it wasn't raining and accommodation looked a hell of a lot cheaper than London. Rolling one of the news papers up into his pocket his stomach growled. Ah lunch. Smiling to himself he walked to one of the coffee shops around the plass and ordered a large black coffee and homemade burger. Seeing that the coffee shop had free wireless access, he figured now as good a time as any to make some more money, Adam logged onto some of his betting accounts and entered a few predictions, figuring it would look at bit strange if he was right on all his bets, he stuck in a couple of plums. Meanwhile, coffee had arrived......


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry it's been slow coming.

I know people have pointed out my timelines are all over the place, I know, I'm having fun playing with canon here and timelines :) and I've no idea where it's going to go...

* * *

The first couple of apartments were just awful. Adam shuddered as he remembered the mould covered bathroom of the second apartment; he was certain that would give him nightmares for a couple of nights yet. And the miniscule living area marked as bijoux in the next. It had been a series of disasters – a bit of a peeling off your skin experience and Adam was getting seriously hacked off. The rain had started in again – not the proper rain rain, no the creeping insidious drizzly rain that just soaked you to the bone. Adjusting his hat he walked to the next property on his list.

Back in the hub, Ianto flicked over the CCTV cameras to see if he could get a view of Adam. He wondered what Jack had omitted to tell him. It was obvious Jack had censored the conversation to keep mentions of the Doctor to a minimum. Ianto wasn't sure if he was comforted by this fact or worried about it. Thankfully though this time Jack hadn't closed his office door and "brooded" for awhile as he was wont to do after any conversation about the Doctor. Instead he followed Ianto into the hub's tiny kitchen to "harass" him while he made coffee....

* * *

"This was it". Adam was quite satisfied. A small one bed apartment in Butetown in a fairly non descript complex. Not too flash, not too shabby either. One bedroom, small bathroom and kitchen/living room. Just the thing. Adam paid the deposit with the promise to the estate agent that he would transfer the money later that evening so he could move in as soon as possible. Feeling far more cheery, Adam struck back to down town Cardiff.

* * *

At exactly 8 minutes past 7 that same evening, the rift alarms went off. Tosh furiously tapped away at her console pin pointing its centre. Somewhere in the sick bay, Owen cursed as pink alien goop squirted from the alien he'd been dissecting for the last couple of days. "Absolutely fascinating stuff" he pondered as he worked, he'd never seen anything remotely like this. Not even Jack had the faintest idea of what species it was he was working on.

Weevil alert.

There were quite a number of them too by the looks of it. All close to the hotel the team had stayed in the night before. "Jack" – this was Gwen being proactive again, "Weevils, looks like there are 4 or 5 of them; I think we all need to go". Jack pouted at Ianto as he was forced to stop attempting to remove Ianto's tie by nibbling his ear while he was making the last round of coffee for the evening. Ianto rolled his eyes practically audibly.

"Last time I checked Gwen, I was in charge" – being interrupted made Jack cranky. Grabbing his great coat, he turned to Ianto, "I want you here, on comms, I know Tosh has been though all the theory in tracking and support put it to good use". With that, Tosh, Owen, Gwen and Jack were roaring across Cardiff to the hotel in the SUV.

Ianto sighed at being left alone again in the hub and popped back in his ear piece. Sitting at Tosh's desk he amused himself by trailing the SUV with the city's CCTV cameras. While trailing the SUV on one monitor, Ianto went to order Chinese and pizza on the second monitor and did a little advance scouting on the third – checking out the team's destination.

"Ianto", Jack's voice startled him momentarily. "I'm here Jack", Ianto could almost hear Jack's smile as Owen muttered something about teaboys in the background. "Ianto, see if you can figure where these guys came from, we've never had reports of Weevils down that side of the bay before. Check has something changed or been disturbed or whatever". "I'm on it" was Ianto's response as he minimised "The Lucky Dragon" menu on the second monitor and searched through city records, news papers and cross referenced them with rift activity. There didn't seem to anything, this just looked like rogue weevil activity.

Going back to check the site of the rift activity, Ianto gave a small groan. Seriously. No really, seriously, Adam Mitchell was wondering towards the hotel completely oblivious of the Weevil's ahead. How was this guy everywhere. He was making Ianto's own attempts at stalking down Jack pitiful. Tapping his comms link so it was just open between himself and Jack, Ianto gave a small cough, "What is it", Jack's response while curt was soft and concerned, Ianto grinned to himself before responding "Jack, you're not going to believe who's ahead.


End file.
